Sleep Soundly Now, My Cherished Friend
by Miss Swann
Summary: Ginny Weasley is walking through Godric's Hollow Cemetery. This is just after the destruction of Voldemort, and this is only the first three chapters. Read and review?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Yes, yes, I'm sure you've seen hundreds of disclaimers. And to be completely honest, I never read them, and I'm sure you don't either. So, let's skip all the usual hooey, and I'll end with.No, I do not own Harry Potter. However, Devon Murray/Seamus Finnigan is -mine-. So, deal with it. *grin*  
  
So, would you like to know what this crap is about? Crap being the operative word. *Ahem* Let's see. Ginny Weasley visits a cemetery, following the destruction of Voldemort. It's sad, and it might suck. *tear* Review when you're finished. ***  
  
Sleep Soundly Now, My Cherished Friend  
'Chapter 1'  
  
The crisp, white snow had just begun to fall as she made her way past the wrought iron gate and into Godric's Hollow Cemetery. The flakes came down slowly, and clung to the sunset-red hair that curled in perfect tendrils down her back. She was clad in a deep-purple, velvet robe, and in her hand she held a basket filled with black and white roses. Purity and Impurity, brought together by petals of silk and thorns of warning.  
  
Ginny made her way through the cemetery, passing clusters of weathered headstones, worn smooth over hundreds of years. She lingered a bit when she saw what she had come for: Four groups of gravestones, arranged around a central group. Ginny knew what this was, even before she read the commemoration. An ivory plaque, engraved in red writing bore the eulogy.  
  
Lay peacefully, dear friends  
The fight was noble, and ever brave.  
For your valiance made amends  
To this world, may your courage be not contained in graves.  
Know you are missed, and always on mind  
The past is a closed chapter, full of night and doom  
Left behind is a world more peaceful and kind.  
Let a new episode be written, and let it bloom.  
A new day has come, and darkness now fills with light  
Rest now, you have come to journey's end  
Your memory is cherished, as is your plight.  
Sleep soundly now, my cherished friend  
  
In Deepest, and Fondest Memory of Those Who Lost Their Lives Fighting for the  
Freedom We Now Possess:  
Hogwarts Students, Staff and Friends.  
October Thirty-First, Nineteen-Hundred Ninety-Seven  
  
Ginny knew the poem. Everyone did. She put it to memory the first time it was printed in the Daily Prophet. The first time the paper was printed since that fateful Halloween. The first time anything had seemed normal since that day.  
  
She made her way past the ivory slab and stood in front of the collection of stones. They were organized by house, and each stone was in its' respective colours. She went, almost instinctively, to her house. The house everyone in her family had been in since, well, forever. Each headstone was a deep shade of ruby, and inscribed with gold. The first she came upon brought tears to her eyes. It was his. The same 'him' she had been infatuated with since first year. His stone seemed to stand out from the rest, possibly from being visited more than any others, or maybe because something from within it-or possibly below, radiated an immense energy.  
  
Harry James Potter  
July 31, 1980 - October 31, 1997  
The boy that lives forever in our hearts.  
  
Harry had died after delivering a fatal blow to Lord Voldemort, via Godric Gryffindor's sword. The immense pain that Voldemort felt pulsed through Harry's body, and it is said that when The Lord died, Harry's soul was ripped from his body, bound to the Dark Lord, bound to his fate. Destined to meet a similar fate. So was the end to Harry Potter. Harry Potter, the Boy That Lived. The boy that seemed to live to tease her. Taunt her. Make her wish that she was more like Hermione, or Cho, or even Fleur Delacour, the snooty Beauxbatons girl who was part veela, and part perfection. Ginny had become infatuated, well, borderline-obsessed with Harry when she first saw him at King's Cross. Pre-pubescent charm, untidy mop of hair and emerald green eyes. Those eyes. Deep pools of pigment that you could just lose yourself in.  
  
"GINNY!" she quickly scolded herself for thinking about Harry like that. He had fought bravely, and died honorably. However, she was not about to start thinking of him like that again, it had taken her five years to forget her feelings. Five long years, years that she would rather not put to waste.  
  
She looked to the plot beside Harry's. She felt the tears burn her eyes, and she made no attempt to hold them back. Opalescent tears poured from her eyes, and ran down her copiously freckled cheeks. The drops froze almost instantly in the cold, and they made little indentations in the crystalline powder that now generously coated the ground.  
  
Ronald Weasley  
March 1, 1980 - October 31, 1997  
The bravest, from a long line of Lions.  
  
Upon seeing those words etched in stone, Ginny's mind flashed back to that day. The last day she saw any of her friends, the last day she saw _him_. 

***  
  
Eh? How was that! *Hides from the angry readers because she stopped so abruptly.* Don't worry; there's more to come! Hmmm, maybe review? If I get some nice reviews, I'll post the next chapter(s). Until then, CONSTANT VIGILIANCE!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Yes, yes, I'm sure you've seen hundreds of disclaimers. And to be completely honest, I never read them, and I'm sure you don't either. So, let's skip all the usual hooey, and I'll end with…No, I do not own Harry Potter. However, Devon Murray/Seamus Finnigan is –mine-. So, deal with it. *grin*

Ah…so here we are. Another chapter in my little story. It's picking up at Ginny's memory of the day 'the world changed.'

*******

Sleep Soundly Now, My Cherished Friend 

'Why Can't I Feel The Cold?'

_Harry had been having his dreams again. The dreams that always gave a vague notion as to Voldemort's next move. Usually, they were simply clues, or simple feelings as to the next move. However, these were more complete visions, a series of pictures, much like a movie. They came on much stronger with each passing day. Harry could feel his connection to the Dark Lord as a dog would feel the bite of a flea. He could see through Voldemort's serpent-like eyes, he could taste the acidic words that dropped from his forked tongue, he could even taste the vile scraps that the Dark Lord ate to sustain himself, scraps most often washed down by the blood of a unicorn, a taste that made Harry's stomach wretch, and his head spin._

_Finally, after much consideration, and after consulting his two best friends, (Ron, the sarcastic red-head and Hermione the walking textbook) Harry decided to tell Dumbledore. As expected, Dumbledore knew of Harry's dreams long before Harry even took notice of their severity. Dumbledore had informed Harry that Voldemort was in Godric's Hollow, holding meetings in what appeared to be a small, Muggle-cottage. It was, without a doubt, enchanted. Enchanted much like the tents the Weasley's rented for the World Cup. The Death Eaters were called upon, and were meeting often in this cottage. Always planning. Planning for an attack upon Hogwarts. With that, Dumbledore dismissed Harry back to the common room._

Ginny placed two roses upon the stone, and moved reluctantly past the resting place of her brother, and onto the next.

Hermione Granger  
September 19, 1980 – October 31, 1997  
Books, cleverness and a heart of gold.

Virginia let out a long sigh into the chill of the night. She watched as her breath made ghostly-opaque shapes in the cold air. It was just then Ginny noticed she did not feel the cold, it must have been warmer than she had anticipated. Or maybe she was warmed from the sheer energy that radiated off the students, even in death.

Ginny had awoken with a start that Halloween night. She heard muffled voices, and the sound of many pairs of feet shuffling out of the common room. She wasn't exactly sure how she ended up on the Quidditch pitch, dressed in her purple dress robes. She saw two, maybe three hundred wizards, students, and staff members gathered on the pitch, all with broom in hand. 

_"Ginny, get back in the castle and go to sleep." She heard a familiar voice behind her, full of haste and insistence.  
"Ron. What is going on?" She asked him.  
But Ron was already on his broom, and going to join the rest of the group that was already in the air.  
"Ginny! Please go back to the common room!" He called back, and was gone in a flash._

_She couldn't remember how she ended up among them, at Godric's Hollow. All around her, curses, hexes and charms were called out, and a rainbow of lights appeared against the night sky. No one noticed her, for she was still small, almost as petite as she was in her first year. It was then she actually took notice of her surroundings. Everything appeared to have an evil cloud above it, as though something menacing was giving it life, or taking away from it. The small chalet, which was believed to be Voldemort's hideout, was directly to her left. She cautiously turned and walked up the cobblestone path, she was careful not to be noticed. Being noticed shouldn't have been one of her concerns, all around her groups of students were casting spells at what Ginny assumed to be Death Eaters. She reached the front door, when she heard voices… _

Ginny suddenly shook her head; she did not want to remember that. She was here to visit her friends; her loved ones, and him. The same him that had saved her life that night. His deep voice echoed through her head, _"Ginny, no! Get out of the way!"_ His eyes pierced her soul, and his voice harsh-yet melodic. She blocked him out of her mind and continued through the Gryffindors, dropping roses and teardrops on each stone.

Seamus Finnigan  
March 17, 1980 – October 31, 1997  
An làmb a bheir, 's i a gheibh.

Dean Thomas  
June 16, 1980 – October 31, 1997  
Skilled with quill and wand.

Neville Longbottom  
July 31, 1980 – October 31, 1997  
Always above and beyond.

Parvati Patil  
February 16, 1980 – October 31, 1997  
Loved and Cherished by all who knew her.

Lavender Brown  
September 21, 1980 – October 31, 1997  
Brave and loyal, a true Gryffindor.

Ginny stopped suddenly; one of the stones had caught her eye. She read it quickly and was horrified, surely there must have been a mistake. _That_ girl hadn't died. She came to the conclusion her mind was playing tricks on her, due to the cold, or possibly due to the intense grief that seemed to rest upon her head. She continued on quickly, trying to erase the words from her mind.

Sapphire-toned memorials populated the next group. Each stone was intricately engraved, and filled with bronze. The Ravenclaw section. The wisest and the most cunning, Virginia had known quite a few Ravenclaws, and befriended many.

_Ginny disregarded the voices and pushed open the door of the abode, and peered inside. A strange smell clung to the air. A smell of fear, anger and tension. A pale fire flickered in the corner, shedding an insipid glow on the room. It was then she noticed the size of the interior. It was gargantuan. In fact, it was enormous. No doubt this house was enchanted to look simple to any passerby, whereas the interior was large enough to rival Hogwarts. It was at that instant, she heard heavy, heeled footsteps coming toward her. She began to run. Run down a corridor to her left, past dozens of doorways, staircases and windows. She stopped suddenly and sank against a wall. It was at that instant a gloved hand shot out of the shadows, cupped her mouth and pulled her into a doorway._

*******

…Hmm? How was that? *Hides from more angry fans because that was terrible.* I didn't plan on it being more than two chapters long, but I've got a slew of ideas that keep pouring into my little brain.

Ooh, by the way, the words on Seamus' tombstone (An làmb a bheir, 's i a gheibh.) are a Gaelic proverb meaning 'The hand that gives is the hand that gets.' Snazzy, eh?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Yes, yes, I'm sure you've seen hundreds of disclaimers. And to be completely honest, I never read them, and I'm sure you don't either. So, let's skip all the usual hooey, and I'll end with…No, I do not own Harry Potter. However, Devon Murray/Seamus Finnigan is –mine-. So, deal with it. *grin*

This chapter picks up inside Ginny's memory, her first moments inside Voldemort's hideaway. *The whole chapter is a flashback*

*******

Sleep Soundly Now, My Cherished Friend  
'Why Can't I Feel The Cold?'****

_Ginny gasped as she felt a hand, covered in silk seize her face, and pull her back into a room she had not noticed before. She closed her eyes quickly, afraid to see what, or who resided in the room behind her. _

_"Virginia, open your eyes," said a deep, melodically familiar voice._

_Nervously, she opened her eyes, and waited for her vision to focus on the room before her. She was standing in possibly one of the grandest rooms she'd ever seen. It could easily fit the entire Weasley house in it, with room left to spare. Slender, emerald candles hanging in silver-coloured holders dimly lighted the room, the walls were painted a deep scarlet, no doubt chosen to resemble blood. There was a huge, mahogany desk against the south wall, and two green, chaise loungers were set in the center of the room, on an ornate silver threaded rug. _

_Ginny noticed there were no windows in the room, although silvery, opaque curtains hung in place as if there were. An air of evil seemed to cling to the room, and it radiated through everything. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling by books; thousands of volumes, dusty and tattered, yet still intimidating due to the sheer numbers. No doubt these books were malicious in nature and written by the evil itself. She shuddered at the thought of what those manuscripts contained._

_"Turn around," said the voice, which seemed to be situated just a few feet behind her._

_She cautiously turned on her heel, only to come face to face with him. The blonde bombshell, Draco Malfoy. He was in Ron's grade…except a Slytherin. The nastiest of the nasty. Although she had to admit she had giggled along with the other girls when he came parading down the hallway with his lemmings, Tweedledee and Tweedledum. He smirked when he heard their whispers, and his eyes laughed when he saw their fingers point in his direction. But he never, ever, acknowledged any of them. As if he would, beautiful Draco Malfoy, associating with younger girls? Let alone Gryffindors! _

_Ginny shook her head to clear the haze of lust that had formed in it. Draco himself, acknowledging her. Talking to her. Looking at her. Commanding her. He was clad in an emerald toned robe that set off his straight, blonde hair and his other features quite nicely. Everything about him seemed almost nice. Especially those eyes, the windows to his very soul. They were soft, yet piercing; steel grey with a hint of sapphire, all surrounded by a thin line of emerald.  
'Trust that bastard even to have expensive-looking eyes,' Ginny thought.  
"Draco?" she questioned, not entirely sure what to say.  
"Weasley."  
"What are you doing here?"  
"Shouldn't I be asking you the very same thing? Virginia, do you know where you are?"   
"I think so…this is some kind of stronghold for Voldemort, right?"  
"Yes, and if you discerned that much," his voice rose considerably, "then why in the name of Merlin are you here?!"  
"Draco, why the hell are you here?"  
"Are you that daft? Do you know who my father is?"  
"A deatheater," she paused. "Is he here?!"  
"Virginia, you are avoiding my question."  
"Malfoy!"  
"I asked you a question, Weasley," he said, an obvious air of frustration in his voice.  
"I'm not really sure, I kind of ended up outside…and then I heard voices downstairs. But then I heard footsteps…and I  
ran…and I, you..."  
"Yes. Well, you need to get out of here, it's not safe," he glared.  
"Why? I can stay, I can help."  
"Don't be daft, you need to leave now."  
"I'm STAYING."  
"Virginia, that is out of the question, you need to find your way out before my father, or worse finds you."  
"Or before I kill you," said a new, slightly squeaky voice that came from the direction of the doorway._

_She whipped her head around only to come face to face with her brother, who, at that moment, was redder than true love, and walking toward her with clenched fists. _

_"Virginia Anne Weasley, what in the name of Merlin are you doing here?! I told you to stay at the castle. Why didn't you listen to me?!"  
"Ron, I'm not five years old anymore. I can take care of myself!"  
"Do you have even the slightest inkling as to where you are right now? Quite possibly the worst place for you—or anyone—to be right now."  
"Then why are you here?"  
"That is beside the point, you need to get OUT of here…NOW!" Ron roared, perhaps a bit too loud; Ginny was sure she saw some dust come flying off the shelves.  
"I'm not leaving."  
"Ginny. It's already been decided, we are finding you a way out and sending you home. Do you not understand the severity of this?!"  
Ginny blinked. 'We?'  
"I'm staying."  
"Gin, please stop being difficult," said another familiar voice, it was smooth as dark chocolate and creamy as fresh milk. _

_She sighed to herself when he piped up. Famous Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. The bane of her existence, even to that very moment. He was staring at her with a look, somewhere between fear and fury._

_It was at that instant that the trio noticed Draco, half hidden by shadows, half revealed by candlelight. _

_"Malfoy," said Ron, almost as if the name itself was a poison.  
"Ah, Weasley the fifth. Come to join the festivities?"  
"What the hell were you doing in here with my sister?!"  
"Well Ron, its a little thing I like to call 'forced entry'…first you--"  
"MALFOY. Finish that sentence and you'll regret it.  
"Ooh, insults."  
"Stup--," Ron said, pulling his wand out from his black, threadbare robes.  
"I saved your dense excuse for a sister. She was running around, causing a raucous. I was in here, thinking, when heard her stamping around. So I grabbed her."  
"Bullshit."  
"Hey, Weasel king, you asked, I told, though I must admit, if you'd give us a few moments…"  
"STOP," bellowed Hermione, starting toward the bickering pair, "Have the two of you –forgotten-- where we are?! We are in the lair of the most dangerous…thing…ever known to wizarding kind! And you are fighting over Malfoy's reasons! Ginny needs to get out of here, NOW."  
Ginny, who was standing next to Draco, was outraged, "I already said I wasn't leaving!"  
"Ginny, please. Now I'm begging, please leave. I don't want to see you hurt, nor do any of us," said Harry, grasping her hand and staring into her eyes, into her soul._

_He was halfway through mouthing something to her that looked like 'Please', when every muscle in his face began to twitch, and his forehead crinkled in pain. He struggled to keep himself up, it seemed as though he had fire behind his eyes, scorching his mind._

_Hermione placed a hand on Harry's trembling shoulders.  
"Harry, what's the matter?!"  
"My scar…I think my head is about to split apart," Harry screamed, and tears began to fill his eyes as he blinked to keep them back.  
"Harry, come and sit down," Ron breathed, trying to calm his best friend._

_Draco made a noise, though it was barely audible, it sounded like a sigh of misery. He watched the darling display of friendship and love with a hardened face. Harry was having another one of his scar attacks, one of many he had seen in his Hogwarts career. As usual, the dream team rushed to his side comforting and soothing him. For an instance, Draco was jealous. He had never known friends like those. No one would rush to his side like that, or pacify his pain. Malfoy blinked. No, he was not jealous of the Mudblood and the Weasel. He was on the brink of anger when he noticed Harry. This one was different somehow, this episode seemed so much worse. Enough so to make all its predecessors seem like beans on toast with a glass of lemonade. He was really in agony this time, he looked like he was about to explode, almost as if Lord Voldemort was…_

_"Well, what do we have here? A little tea party in my study, I see," said a wispy, snakelike voice._

_***_

What do you *think*? Is it terrible? Horrible? No good? Very bad? This should finish soon [1 or 2 chapters more.] Leave nice reviews, yeah? 


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